


here in a modern time

by echomoon



Series: tumblr drabbles [3]
Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-12
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2019-03-17 06:12:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13653090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/echomoon/pseuds/echomoon
Summary: quentin and eliot process after they get their memories back





	here in a modern time

**Author's Note:**

> whats up yall this was supposed to be smut and then it turned into emotional h/c instead so this is my life now. will i ever write the queliot hot tub smut this was supposed to be? who fuckign knows. i hope you like this even tho its probably super similar to everythign everyone else is writing right now, because this fandom is a hivemind in terms of queliot content post 305

a hallmark of both quentin and eliot is that neither of them are very good at processing emotions; even with this new lifetime of memories, it takes time for their minds to settle. if anything, the new memories make it worse.

the last thing quentin can remember from his old life is giving the key to jane - he’s still stuck grieving eliot, eliot who was right in front of him and young again and who left him alone on the throne room steps with the promise of fetching alcohol. that was 15 minutes ago and he still isn’t back. quentin isn’t surprised, really. eliot at this age had tended to go off on his own when he needed to think. he had sulked in the cabin for days when quentin had told him about wanting to be with arielle, until quentin finally coaxed him out with the promise that arielle was okay with the two of them still being together. and also with sex.  but quentin couldn’t blame him because he had been the same way, both of them idiots who isolated themselves. 

so quentin gets up from the steps and starts to do the poppers for a finding spell, until he remembers that they’re back in - the past? the future? the regular timeline? - and magic is still gone. the loss of it is suddenly fresh again, and thinking about loss makes him think about eliot, dead in his favorite chair, and how quentin never finished burying him, and quentin is sobbing where he stands. he’s filled with the overwhelming need to find eliot, to reassure himself that he’s alive again.

he manages to calm himself long enough to quiz what feels like an endless amount of servants on where their high king is, the answer to which is apparently the bath rooms. when quentin bursts through the doors there, he finds eliot sitting on the edge of one of the pools, pants rolled up to his knees, nursing a bottle of, something. he has a dazed look on his face, barely even looks in the direction of quentin’s interruption, and that’s what gets quentin sobbing again.

“eliot!” quentin keens, and eliot is startled, up in a flash and reaching for him, embracing him. 

it takes a while for quentin’s panic to subside, for eliot’s presence to reassure him. he nudges himself out of eliot’s arms enough to look up at him and lifts a hand to eliot’s face.

“eliot, you were dead! you were dead and arielle is dead and rupert - oh god, rupert is probably dead by now.” quentin babbles, still searching eliot’s face, taking in the sight of him being young again.

“we’ll find out,” eliot reassures him. “and we’ll find your grandkids, too.”

“both of our grandkids. rupert was yours as much as mine and you know it.” it was an old argument, but surely by now eliot couldn’t still be afraid of fatherhood.

“i know.” eliot says slowly. “we’ll find our family, q. i’ll bring them to the castle. if - well. margo stopped the timeline, so do-”

“i don’t know. but we have to look.” quentin says, not wanting to think about how them not going back may have changed things. and how now, being back in the present, changes things.

“el.” quentin starts, serious, and then stops because he doesn’t even know what he wants to say. he can’t stop staring at eliot, can’t stop remembering their years together, can’t stop feeling his grief at eliot’s death and his relief that eliot is alive, and that they’re both young again, and they’re in their right time, and everyone is back, and - 

eliot runs a hand through quentin’s hair, the familiar motion soothing. “you’re thinking too hard, babe.”

“how are you not?” quentin laughs weakly.

“i’m halfway to drunk and have you again.”

quentin’s heart stutters for a second. “eliot, what do we even do about...”

“i don’t know, q.”

“do you want to - to not -”

“no! quentin, we’re here together, again. i’m not - i don’t know what we should to do, but im not. i’m never giving you up.” eliot stumbles to say

they stare at each other, still touching in every way they can, and quentin gives in to his urges and kisses eliot, soft and simple like the first times. it turns into them pouring every bit of grief and relief and happiness at being back into the kiss, long and heavy.

when they finally break for air, eliot rests his forehead against quentin’s even though q knows the position is a little uncomfortable for him and lets out a small huff of a laugh.

“what?” quentin asks.

“did you know i’m allowed to take a husband, too? it’s been so long, i can’t even remember if you were here when we found out.”

quentin stills, takes a second to process that, then slowly says, “i mean... we technically are already married...” thinking about eliot’s involvement when he and arielle had gotten married, how he had taken a vow with quentin after she died, for rupert’s sake, though not just for that. thinking about their relationship, their love.

“knowing fillory, it definitely counts even though it happened... jesus, this timeline shit is going to get confusing.”

they both laugh, fall back into their hug.

“hey, you should definitely share whatever you’re drinking.” quentin says finally, feeling exhausted, emotionally drained, but still happy, somehow.

they break apart and both settle back to where eliot had been sitting, getting far more drunk than they should considering the shitstorm they were coming back to.

eventually, margo storms into the room, ready to ream them out for disappearing on her, only to find them curled up into each other, sleeping peacefully. 


End file.
